Lifeblood
by MorganLeFay33
Summary: Helen Magnus meets Janice Garvey and is reunited with times past. AU Crossover (Corah and Magnus/O'Brien...O'Magnus?) with a bit of Benidorm sprinkled here and there!
1. Chapter 1

**Lifeblood**

_I received an anonymous request for this a few days ago. Anon, since you asked so nicely and sign your messages like I do (xoxo, soul sister/brother?), I've decided to write it. I only started watching Sanctuary last week so I'm new to this. I'm not too keen on the show to be honest, but Helen Magnus is captivating. To Sanctuary fans, I'm sorry if this is out of character or inaccurate. To Downton (Corah) fans, don't worry, your ship will most likely sail. To all fans, it will make sense even if you've only seen one of these shows, so please do read. Anon, I see your Sanctuary/Downton crossover and I raise you Benidorm. Why not? If Helen is 160 years old, we may as well throw it all together._

**Chapter 1: The Solana**

"This crazy English woman, she has corrected my grammar! Who does she think she is?"

Janice groaned in frustration and propped herself up just enough to lower her sunglasses and see what all the commotion was about. She rolled her eyes at the sight of the Spanish barman whining to his boss.

"English isn't your first language, Matteo! She's probably trying to help," Janey responded, clearly irritated.

"She corrected my _Spanish_!" he shouted.

Janice burst into laughter, realizing all too quickly that Matteo had probably been trying to seduce yet another English woman by offering her some slimy phrases of Spanish rubbish. She flickered her gaze over to where his finger was pointing. The woman was facing away from Janice, her long, dark hair cascading around her elbows as she dangled her feet in the water. Janice leaned back on her sunbed and closed her eyes once again.

When Mick returned to sit by her later that day, Janice noticed his attention fade halfway through their conversation. She knew her husband well enough to know the reason why.

"Mick!" she snapped, "St…"

She turned around to see which cheap tart had caught his eye this time around. Once she saw what he was looking at, Janice forgot what she was going to say. This was no cheap tart. This woman was posh as all hell. It was the infamous grammar-corrector from earlier, Janice thought. This time she could see the front of her and was left speechless for a moment. She was much taller barefoot than Janice could ever have hoped to be with the highest heels on. She had a stunning black designer swimsuit and sarong, and her hair looked like she'd just come out of a salon. If Janice hadn't been so intrigued, she would have been jealous.

"Mick, come off it, will you? Stop ogling."

"Bloody hell, I was only looking!" He cried, lying back down with an annoyed sigh.

She walked by their table when the Garveys had dinner at Neptune's that night, and both Mick and Janice turned their heads to follow her motion.

Madge cackled and spat, "Look at the pair of you, poking your noses in other people's business at every turn. It's sickening."

"What?" Janice asked. "I'm going to get another drink." She got up and followed the woman, too distracted to respond to her mother's insult.

"Sure you are," Madge snickered sarcastically.

Janice walked quickly to follow the woman, noticing that she wore yet another designer outfit –this time a dark blue blouse and black pencil skirt with sleek high heels. What was someone like this doing in Benidorm?

Janice eased around the corner of the bar so that she came face-to-face with the stranger. She ordered a gin and tonic and turned toward the woman.

"Hiya!" Janice offered cheerily. "You all right?"

The woman had been shuffling around in her purse and looked up at Janice. After less than a second, her expression changed from neutral to stunned.

"Sarah?" she whispered.

Bloody hell, she looked like she'd seen a ghost! Her large blue eyes searched Janice's face in near terror. Janice was confused.

"No, sorry, love. I'm Janice." Janice gave her a toothy grin.

The woman shook her head quickly and managed to say quietly, "Forgive me – I thought you were…you look like someone I…I'm Helen."

Janice had expected her to have a posh accent, but it sounded slightly different than that. Janice couldn't understand why. She reached out to shake her hand and noticed with a tinge of envy that Helen's hands were manicured beautifully.

Helen still seemed nervous and dazed. When her glass of wine arrived at the bar, she took it and said, "Will you please excuse me? I'm feeling a bit light headed and need to sit down."

Janice watched her hurry away, wondering what she had done to upset this odd woman.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A Misunderstanding**

They had expected a doctor, and a doctor was precisely what they got – but they had not been expecting _this._

Lord Grantham had made his quiet inquiry through Dr. Clarkson, trying his best to remain levelheaded about the strange happenings that had plagued Downton for the past month. Dr. Clarkson had professed his knowledge of an enigmatic institution in London that usually looked into these kinds of cases, and he provided his Lordship with all necessary details to make contact. Lord Grantham had corresponded by telephone with a man who called himself Dr. Watson. Dr. Watson had assured him that Dr. Magnus was an expert who would be able to resolve the issue within one night. Desperate for help, the Crawley family extended a grand invitation to the venerated Dr. Magnus in hopes that he would join them for supper before setting off on his work. Great was their surprise when he never arrived – for it was _she _who arrived.

The Crawley family and their staff were puzzled and put off when she emerged from the car, thinking that Dr. Magnus had brought a female companion without giving notice. When no one else exited the car except the woman's young maid, it became clear that this was much worse than they had thought.

Supper was uncomfortable. No one could believe she was a doctor, for she possessed all the beauty and refinement of an aristocrat. Her dark green gown set off her elegantly styled Titian hair, and her pearl earrings shone as brightly as her large blue eyes. She ate with measured poise, speaking softly and slowly. Lady Sybil ameliorated the many awkward silences of the evening. She was entranced by the visitor and asked her question after question about life as a woman doctor. Dr. Magnus replied with thoughtful and intelligent answers, enjoying the lively company of the young girl. Lady Grantham tried to make polite conversation as well, but no other member of the Crawley family knew quite what to say in this situation, for they all knew that a more impolite chat was to follow.

After supper, Lord Grantham invited her into his study. Carson closed the doors firmly shut behind the two of them and settled into his post in the corner of the room. Lord Grantham motioned for her to sit and began to pace.

"There seems to have been a…misunderstanding, Dr. Magnus," he said authoritatively.

"There has been no misunderstanding," she responded plainly.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, turning toward her incredulously.

"I can assure you that I am highly qualified for this work, regardless of my gender."

He was surprised at the audacity of her statement. "Dr. Magnus, these…problems…are much too severe and frightening for a lady like yourself to face. I'm afraid feminine sensibility has no place in the exploration of these bizarre circumstances."

She slowly raised one eyebrow and responded. "I know precisely what it is, you know. I'm the only person in this world who can help you, so it won't do you any good to dismiss my knowledge of the subject on the basis of 'feminine sensibilities.'"

Once again taken aback, he challenged, "Well then, by all means, please do explain."

She stood up to face him. "It is a cryptid, known in Latin America as the Chupacabra. They drain the blood of farm animals in the night for sustenance and are reptilian in appearance. Your particular species possesses luminous saliva, which glows in the darkness. I assume the residue from its attacks has been a source of great fear for the people in this village?"

He stood in amazement at her perfectly accurate diagnosis, unable to speak.

"Right," she said resolutely. "If you'll allow me to get on with my work tonight, I will have it captured and removed by tomorrow morning. I assume the terms of payment haven't changed since you last spoke with Dr. Watson?"

He gave up all hope of fighting her. "Yes. Half now, half once it is captured. And you had requested special assistance and materials as well?"

"Yes. I will need the help of someone who knows this estate well and doesn't mind getting their hands dirty. One of your servants would be ideal. I will pay them one third of what I earn here. I will also require a basket of food from your cook – nothing terribly elaborate – just some form of sustenance for the evening. We may very well not be sleeping tonight, so it would require that my accompanying servant have the morning off tomorrow. I'll meet your staff downstairs in ten minutes. That will be all."

She silently directed Carson to open the doors for her and walked gracefully out the room, leaving Lord Grantham behind her to nod in stupefied shock.

By the time Helen Magnus appeared in the servants' hall downstairs, Carson had reported the news to all staff members and had assembled a perfect line of capable men as volunteers.

Helen walked slowly down the line, scrutinizing each candidate closely. Carson had already explained that Bates would be unable because of his injury, which left Molesley, William, and Thomas. When she passed Molesley, he began to tremble violently and meekly asked to sit down. He exhaled in relief when she gave him permission to do so. William declared in earnest his desire to help, and Thomas interrupted him,

"If I may, William, I know these grounds better than you do. I believe I would be of much more use to the doctor." He gazed up at her with feigned respect.

There was a loud snort from the corner of the room, and Helen turned around to find that its source was the lady's maid sewing in the corner – a dour looking woman dressed from head to toe in black, with neat curls framing her face.

"Is something funny?" Helen asked severely.

The woman looked up at her, disdainful sarcasm filling her blue-grey eyes. "That one," she pointed to William, "won't be of use to you. He's a child. He'll do something stupid and impulsive, and it'll ruin it all. And as for that one," she rolled her eyes and pointed to Thomas, "He's all talk. As soon as he sees something he doesn't like, he'll go screaming and crying home to his mum."

Before the butler or housekeeper could chastise the maid for her boldness, Helen responded. "And you think yourself to be an expert on this?"

"I think I've been here long enough to know who does and doesn't have it in them to get a proper job done."

"And what about you? Do you think you could do a better job?" Helen asked harshly.

The woman laughed derisively. "Are you mad?"

"No, I am not mad. What is your name?" Helen asked in a steady tone.

"Sarah O'Brien."

"All right then, Miss O'Brien. I shall be requiring _your_ help. Will you do it?" Helen challenged.

O'Brien stood up defiantly. "I will."

"Good." Helen responded, her eyes locking assertively with O'Brien's from across the room. "Meet me in the stables in fifteen minutes, and prepare yourself for a long, difficult night."

"The stables?" O'Brien asked disbelievingly.

"Yes. I'll see you then and there." Helen headed back up the stairs, leaving a roomful of bewildered people behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Dinner and Drinks**

Helen made a point to find her the next day and make a proper apology. She found her ordering a drink at the poolside bar.

"Hello, Janice," she said, pulling a chair up next to her.

She turned to Helen and smiled widely. "Hiya! You feeling better then?"

"Yes, I am." Helen continued gently, "I want to tell you that I'm sorry for acting so unfriendly last night. I don't know what came over me." Helen knew precisely what had come over her, but now was not the time to think about it.

"It's nothing," Janice replied, shrugging dismissively. She paused before asking, "So are you on holiday with family or friends or…"

Helen gave the same answer she had already given several times that day. "I'm on my own, on one of my very rare holidays from work. I was supposed to come here with a friend from Bulgaria, but he unfortunately cancelled at the last minute."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Janice said kindly. "What's your work then?"

"I'm a doctor." Their drinks had arrived, but neither woman got up to leave.

"Well, that's impressive!"

Janice's cheery grin made Helen's heart melt. She wished she had seen that same smile grace Sarah's face as many times as she'd seen it on Janice's face over the last two days. Helen tried not to let herself get carried away by the likeness, but it was uncanny. Granted, Helen was sure Sarah would have killed herself before dying her hair blonde and wearing such an abundance of mismatched jewelry, but the likeness was still there. It was not only present in the strong jaw, twinkling blue eyes, distinctive nose, full lips, and deep voice - but dear God, Helen could see it in her _body _as well. From what Helen could tell, while still stopping her eyes from wandering too far down along Janice's low cut bikini top, the only difference was her tan. Even the height was the same.

"What about you?" Helen swallowed and tried to ask politely, putting all of those dangerous thoughts out of her mind.

"We're keeping busy running six sunbed shops in Manchester. I've usually got my hands full with two children and a grandson! What about you? Have you got any kids?"

Helen tried to ignore the familiar stab of pain that always accompanied that question. "No, I don't."

"Probably better that way. They're nothing but trouble," Janice responded dreamily, gazing at her laughing and playing children across the pool. Helen could tell that she didn't mean it – Janice adored her children, and Helen was envious. She would have given anything to live a life like Janice's, surrounded by a loving family and untroubled by the greater tribulations of the world.

"You're lucky," Helen told her sadly. "I had a daughter, but she passed away two years ago."

Janice turned her attention to Helen once more, answering gravely, "Oh I'm so sorry, Helen. I'm sorry. I can't even imagine."

"Thank you, but I'm perfectly fine," Helen responded, trying to hold herself together. "I've come here on holiday to try to forget about that, and to try to forget about – well - nearly everyone I live and work with in Old City."

Janice nodded warmly before asking, "Where's Old City?"

"Just North of Seattle. I'm located there at the moment, but I was born in London."

"That explains your accent!" Janice exclaimed in excitement. "I thought you sounded a bit funny when you talk!"

Helen looked wistfully down at the tiles on the ground, knowing that she couldn't tell the entire truth about that. "Yes, I've lived in many different cities around the world since I left London."

"Helen," Janice offered earnestly, "Do you want to spend some of your holiday with us? It's a shame for you to have to be alone when you're supposed to be having fun. What about joining us for dinner tonight?"

Helen was touched. "Really? I don't want to impose on your family time."

Janice chortled and gestured over to her husband, mother, and children. "This lot? They wouldn't be fussed either way. I'd love to have a friend of my own around here."

Helen felt deliriously happy and achingly sorrowful at the same time. She jumped at the chance to spend time with her new friend, but she sadly knew that no matter how many drinks and dinners they shared, Janice Garvey would always and only remain Janice Garvey.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: An Abnormal Night**

"Put these on." Dr. Magnus threw the bag across the stable to her.

Sarah unclasped it and pulled out a button-up blouse, a long coat, a pair of tall leather boots, a pair of trousers, and…bloody hell. She laughed out loud and responded, "You're kidding."

"I am not kidding. Put them on." Sarah should have known by now that Dr. Magnus wasn't one to make jokes at a time like this.

"I can't wear trousers, and I definitely won't be putting on this…"

"Brazier. Yes, you can. It's dark. No one will see you except me. What did you expect? To run about in a corset and dress? It's impractical. Just put them on and do something about your hair. It will fall down with all those pins in it. I'll change across the way."

Dr. Magnus disappeared for a moment, leaving Sarah to hold the outlandish new undergarment in confusion. She begrudgingly donned the strange uniform and pulled her hair down, plaiting it into a simple braid and tying it with a piece of string she found in the stable. Sarah felt uninhibited and roguish, and she couldn't pretend that she didn't like it.

When the doctor returned, Sarah felt herself involuntarily draw in an astounded breath. The sight of her in trousers was a vision that Sarah had never anticipated, and she felt something stir deep within her at the peculiar beauty before her. Dr. Magnus had let her hair down and buttoned her thick brown coat before swinging her long strawberry-blonde curls around her shoulder and tying them up with a red ribbon. Sarah averted her eyes, cursing herself for the blush she felt creeping up her neck.

"Now," Dr. Magnus said, with a spark in her eye. "We have some planning to do."

The task was indeed tiring and difficult, as Dr. Magnus had warned her. Sarah had to guide her to all the farms where attacks had happened. Finally, they got to a farm where Dr. Magnus kneeled down and ran her hands through a trail of slimy sludge that glowed bright green in the night. She then looked up at a nearby tree.

"This will be perfect," she resolved. Sarah shuddered at her nonchalant willingness to touch the disgusting stuff covering the ground.

First, they had to line the sheep pen with some kind of metal Sarah hadn't seen before. According to Dr. Magnus, it would make the creature unaware of its surroundings once it was inside the pen. Sarah thought it was all hogwash, but she grumbled along obediently. Second, they had to assemble a ladder the doctor had brought in her bag and climb up into the tree. Third, they had to tie a giant net to one of the branches of the tree. When they had finished everything, they sat side by side on one of the tree's sturdy branches.

"What now?" Sarah asked, already exhausted from all this rubbish.

"Now, we wait," the doctor responded jauntily.

Sarah turned to her in repulsion, "We _wait_? Up here in the dark, in this blasted tree? For how long?" She brushed a large spider away from her shoulder. This was not going to be enjoyable.

"For however long it takes for the creature to arrive. The Chupacabra has excellent ground vision and hearing, but anything too far above it is not perceptible to it. We must stay up here. Good thing I brought something to eat and some playing cards!"

Sarah pulled out the pack of cigarettes she'd stuffed in her pocket and lit one.

"Those are terrible for your health, Miss O'Brien."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Says who?"

"Science." Dr. Magnus sighed, realizing that there was no use in trying to convince Sarah otherwise.

They sat there for hours, and somewhere along the way, Sarah had begun to enjoy herself. Sarah found herself opening up about her past, telling Helen about her childhood and family. Helen was finally a challenging match for Sarah at cards, and she even liked to engage in a good bit of sardonic gossip. Sarah wished for a moment that she had a comrade like Helen in the downstairs staff. Sarah enjoyed her time with Thomas, but there was only so far their banter could go before he dropped the ball and couldn't keep up. Sarah sniggered at Helen's flawless impressions of various members of the Crawley family, but immediately stopped laughing at her silly impression of Cora.

"Something wrong?" Helen asked in jest.

"Leave it alone now," Sarah mumbled. "Her Ladyship is truly a good person, not like the rest of them."

"Clearly, I've struck a nerve," Helen said, bemused.

Suddenly, they heard a loud cry from one of the sheep. Helen's hands shot up like lightning and she pulled out a large weapon that looked like a gun. Sarah had never seen one quite like it.

"Miss O'Brien," she whispered carefully, "I'm going to need you to drop the net down to me when I say so."

Sarah nodded, suddenly afraid of the hissing and sucking sounds she heard below her. She nearly shrieked in fear at the sight of two red, glowing eyes floating in the darkness.

Helen seemed entirely nonplussed. She leapt down from the tree as if she were a monkey and aimed her weapon at the creature. With a giant flash of blue, buzzing light, the creature let out a bloodcurdling scream and went still, its scaly body glowing blue and green.

"Now!" Helen cried.

Sarah hastily untied the net. While still holding her weapon, Helen caught the net with one hand and threw it over the creature. She crept forward, lightly kicked the tranquilized monster, and began to tie the net up around it.

"You can come down now!" she shouted merrily.

Sarah's body was still shaking, but she managed to make it down from the tree with all of their belongings.

"Time for bed, I think," Helen grinned charmingly as she set off toward Downton, dragging the heavy mass behind her. Sarah ran to keep up, happy to be free of long skirts and tight corsets.

The next morning, Helen departed right after breakfast. She'd allowed Lord Grantham to take a peek into a large crate in the back of her car for confirmation. His face went pale and he nodded quickly, handing her the required payment and thanking her curtly.

Sarah was thankful to sleep late, but she didn't have the chance to say goodbye to Helen. She felt slightly disappointed to realize this as she walked down the stairs at noon.

"Good afternoon, Miss O'Brien," Mrs. Hughes said. "Dr. Magnus left a note for me to give to you."

Sarah tried to hide her happiness at this news. "She did?"

As Sarah sat eating her dinner, she opened the note and felt her heart leap with delight at its contents.

_Dear Sarah (if I may), _

_Good work last night. I enjoyed it, and I hope that you did as well. By the time you read this, I'll be off on my way to London. I thought it would be impolite to leave without writing some sort of farewell note. However, a proper invitation is much more pertinent than a proper goodbye. I would be very pleased if you would come to visit my Sanctuary in London when you next have a day off. I have enjoyed our talks, and I must say that I was impressed with your bravery and cunning. _

_Until we meet again,_

_Helen_

Sarah folded the note evenly, feeling a small smile grow the corner of her mouth. She couldn't help it – she felt like a stupid schoolgirl all over again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: A Double-Edged Sword**

Sarah wasn't afraid. Helen couldn't believe it. Nearly everyone who had been given her tour was afraid, not that many people got to see the inner marvels of the Sanctuary in the first place. Helen often ended the tour early, stopping with the mermaid and smaller flying creatures so that her guests could recover from the shock. Not Sarah O'Brien. Helen took her deep into the dens of the most horrifying fire-breathing abnormals that she kept.

Other than the occasional breathy swear word and openmouthed stare, Sarah was more fascinated than afraid. Helen began to feel a strange addiction growing inside of her, wanting to show more and more to her younger friend so that she could watch her gaze at the creatures in wonder. Helen liked showing her things, selfishly liked knowing that Sarah's perception of the entire world was changing thanks to _her_.

When they had finished, Helen took Sarah into her office for tea. They sat in the plush leather seats on either side of the tiny table, talking about Helen's work for hours. Sarah asked more questions than Helen had thought she would, and it was a shame that her answers could not be completely honest every time.

"And you, Sarah? How is your life at Downton?"

The woman across from her suddenly grew quiet, her mouth agape. She broke into grating laughter.

"You're kidding! Why would you ever care about that for one second? With all this going on here, you must think the Crawley family a right bunch of idiots."

"I care about _you_," Helen said sincerely, moving slightly forward. She noticed the brilliant blush beginning to stain Sarah's cheeks at her words.

Helen did not know how exactly it happened. There she was, pressed against the doorframe by the shorter woman, gasping for breath as Sarah kissed her fiercely. A battle for dominance began in their frantic kisses, each woman routinely turning and slamming the other one against the wall until they made it all the way into Helen's bedroom.

What started between them was anything but a love affair, and Sarah was thankful. Bedplay with Helen was precisely that – play. There were no longing gazes, no grandiose professions, no tender touches. If they moved quickly, it was nearly violent. If they moved slowly, it was wickedly teasing. There were giggles and moans and little screams, and sometimes there were growls and bites. Sometimes it involved ropes and switches blindfolds and other things Helen liked to call "toys." Half of it didn't surprise Sarah, and neither of them talked about it anyway. Talking wasn't important until they collapsed into bed, sated and sometimes laughing. Even then, they talked like two old friends, not like lovers. The word "beautiful" was never mentioned either. Helen _was _beautiful, Sarah thought – she just could never bring herself to say it because it all seemed ridiculous when it came down to it. Helen was all tangled ginger curls and scandalous undergarments, massive breasts and swinging hips, moist lips and penetrating azure eyes. Sarah did not love Helen – she loved how it felt to be with Helen. Sarah could not visit her as often as she liked, but she did every chance she got. Helen always managed to make time for her.

There was just one thing Sarah couldn't ignore about their eccentric arrangement. Helen suffered from night terrors. She often awoke screaming and crying, grasping frantically at the air and thrashing about. Sarah usually had to reach for Helen to wrap her in her arms and whisper comforting words in her ear until she could fall asleep again. Sarah never did find out what brought it on, but she supposed sleep was the one place where Helen just couldn't fight off her monsters anymore. It should have tortured Sarah to know that no amount of intimacy between them was heavily heartfelt. Their relations were destined to be imperfect - for no matter how many times Sarah held the other woman, Helen Magnus would never be Cora Crawley.

Helen knew that Sarah was in love, and she also knew that it wasn't with her. Helen did what she did best – she pretended not to care. She pulled out all the tricks she'd learned in her long life, and they were many. Sarah would never know that Helen thought she was truly lovely, funny, and compassionate. Helen would never tell her that it was a thrill just to be in the same room with her, that she was mesmerized every time she glimpsed Sarah's profile catch the sunlight. She tried to avoid staring into her bottomless blue-grey eyes for too long, and she purposefully stopped herself from caressing Sarah's goddess-like body too gently and devotedly.

And when Sarah finally came to her one day to tell her that there was someone new, Helen smiled widely and congratulated her, shrugging it all off as if it had just been an entertaining distraction.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Ancestry**

Helen appreciatively accepted the cup of tea from Janice, wrapping her hands around it to keep warm. Neither of them had expected rain on their last day in Benidorm, but the poor weather did present Helen with the perfect setting for the talk she had prepared to have with Janice.

They had spent a happy week together - laughing, swimming, sunbathing, eating, drinking, dancing, singing, and shopping. Janice was pleasantly surprised by how well Helen had merged with her family. Helen was adorably affectionate toward Janice's children, and she even seemed to enjoy a good bit of banter with Mick and Madge. Janice realized early on that she'd at first mistaken Helen's lonely unease for pretension.

Helen hated to ruin what Janice had assumed would be a relaxed and cozy afternoon together in Helen's hotel room. Helen braced herself for the partially truthful lie she was about to tell. She sighed in submission to this familiar guilty feeling - the feeling of a lifetime that was an unending succession of honest lies and dishonest truths. She took in a deep breath and asked the question.

"Janice, have you ever researched your genealogy?"

"Yer what?" Janice asked absentmindedly, fiddling with a loose string hanging from the bottom of her flowered dress.

"Your ancestry. Do you know anything about your family heritage?"

"Oh, right. Mum looked into it a while back, but I couldn't be bothered to read what she gave me. Not yet, anyway."

Helen pulled out the box that had been waiting under the settee. She had phoned Will as soon as she'd arrived in Benidorm, and he had arranged for it to be delivered to her as soon as was humanly possible. Helen's young protégé never knew or asked about the reasons for her odd requests, and this time was no exception.

"Janice," she said slowly, "I hope you don't find me strange for telling you this, but I did a bit of research into your family tree. Do you remember the first day we met, when I mistook you for someone else?"

Janice flinched, clearly taken aback by Helen's peculiar confession. "Why would you do that? Yeah, I remember."

"It seems that my great-great grandmother was a friend of your great-great-great aunt. I recognized your face immediately, because you look exactly like her." Helen caught herself. "From the photographs, I mean. I had photographs of her in my family home, and I had them mailed to me as soon as I met you. Her name was Sarah O'Brien, and she was a lady's maid to the Countess of Grantham." The lineage was no lie - Janice truly was Sarah's flesh and blood.

Janice's face lit up in excitement. "Really? Let's have a look then!" She shifted impatiently in her seat, urging Helen to show her.

Helen tried to keep her hands from shaking as she opened the box and drew out the faded photographs. There she was, staring up at the two of them in frowning contempt.

"Jesus Christ," Janice said with a nervous laugh, "Now I don't know whether I should be _happy _to hear I look like her. What a sight for sore eyes!"

"No, she was beautiful!"

Janice smirked at Helen, puzzled by the other woman's emphatic response.

Helen silently scolded herself for being so impulsive. "I mean to say that no one could smile for photographs at the time, because the resulting image would be blurry if they did. She was probably an attractive lady." It was the understatement of a century.

Janice seemed satisfied with this explanation. Helen continued, "Anyway, I went through a collection of letters that my own relatives wrote and learned a little about Sarah's life. I learned that these were her belongings, or at the very least gifts that were meant to be given to her. I thought it would only be right for you to have them."

Helen pushed the box into Janice's lap and watched as she withdrew each item in amazement. Helen tried to give her best explanations for each one – the black hat Sarah had left behind, the silly little picture she had drawn of James, the Victorian horror novels that she'd so enjoyed reading.

"Bloody hell, this is gorgeous," Janice exclaimed breathily, admiring a silver comb she had found.

Helen smiled sadly. "Apparently, it was meant to be a Christmas gift for Sarah, but the two of them…fell out of contact by that point."

Janice traced the tips of her fingers along the edge, saying, "Would you look at that – there's an octopus engraved on it!"

"My great-great grandmother knew the octopus was Sarah's favorite animal. Why it was her favorite, I couldn't tell you," Helen said wistfully, staring at the floor. "Why _anyone_ would choose an _octopus _over every other creature in this world...it's just so _stupid_…"She could feel the tears falling from her eyes as she began to laugh sorrowfully. Helen had broken, just as she had feared she would. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "I'm always emotional about history. Their letters gave me the impression that they were truly good friends."

Janice seemed unperturbed by Helen's strange behavior and merely laughed along, thanking her for giving her this box of treasures.

"What ever happened to her?" Janice asked interestedly.

"Apparently," Helen responded, trying to regain the detached tone of a historian, "she fell madly in love and ran away with the object of her affections. The last thing I heard...read…was that she and her lover moved somewhere in Lancashire and lived a long, happy life together."

"Well, that's a lovely story," Janice replied with dream-like innocence.

"Yes, yes it was."

_So that's it for this fic! I hope you enjoyed it!_

_Anon, I apologize for ending it on such a sad note – Corah is my OTP and I just couldn't bring myself to betray them. But the good news is that we know Helen has the chance to love again...Nikola Tesla anyone?_

_xoxo,_

_Morgana_


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